This man had an idea
The Goddess, Pride, was born
And from Her bosom men did grow,
By thousands, more and more.
Her sin, Her flaw, She could not know
Their numbers would spark war
"We do not serve Her Pridefulness
though from Her we are made,
There's more than just Her sinful bliss
There's jealousy; there's rage."
And as the words were spoken
And with a defeaning roar
The skies were all but broken
Before them stood two more
Envy and Wrath, in all Their glory,
Stood above the crowds.
As such, in these two categories
Servants were allowed.
Pride judged these creations
as was Her heavenly right
"Sisters, not abominations,"
She spoke into the night
Curiosity befell
The tiny servile breed
"Two more were conjured up from Hell!
And of our Goddess, Greed?"
They had but just to speak the words
Then their Goddess come to life
And thus the imaginative hordes
Begat the Age of Strife
The Goddess of Mild Inebriation
The Goddess of the Unclean
The Goddess of Sexual Deviation
The Goddess of the Unseen
Forty or fifty sprang up quick
For every concept there was lack
But Pride just gave Her wrist a flick
Sending all but ten of them back:
Lust and Sloth and Patience
Glutton, Chastity
Charity, Kindness, Diligence
Temperance, Humility
These fourteen were all but equals
Pride "allowed" Them to stay
(Though She was less than gleeful)
And to Them, their subjects prayed.
So began the Age of Peace
To please we take great pains
They give our lives tenuous lease